


green eyes and a heartbeat

by honestground



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, F/M, Morning Sex, Oral Sex, Vanilla-As-Fuck Sex, postgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-20 05:41:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16130825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honestground/pseuds/honestground
Summary: (home is)When she tells him she loves him it sounds like a prayer.





	green eyes and a heartbeat

Zelda rises early, but today, Link wakes up first. 

She has her back to him this morning, having drifted away sometime in the night. For a moment, Link merely times her breaths and counts the bumps of vertebrae along her spine, just absorbing the comfort and correctness of waking up with her. She’s within arms’ reach; he easily brushes back her hair from the bare skin of her shoulders, and when he moves across the mattress to liken the shape of his lips to the nape of her neck, he doesn’t have far to go.

Zelda stirs when he moulds his body against hers, offering a pleased sigh as he trails kisses down one arm. She shifts around and stretches. Hums in an amused sort of way when she feels him innocuously pressed against her lower back. “Good morning.” 

Link smiles, his face in her hair. “Morning.”

They’re both still half-asleep, so it’s unexpected but not unwelcome when she angles herself to push her behind against his front. Link takes the opportunity to grind against her harder, feeling a murmur of desire run through him, a little vague and muted from sleep, but still there. 

Gradually rousing himself, he snakes his arm beneath her back to trace her breast over her chemise, toying with a nipple through the cotton with his thumb. She shivers, murmuring in encouragement, and he dips his hand beneath her neckline instead. Zelda sighs at the contact, pressing her chest into his touch. 

Part of him very much awake now, Link tentatively pushes up the hem of her nightgown. His fingers trail over the soft skin of her upper thighs in gentle question—she’s so responsive already, but he doesn’t want to assume. He kisses her shoulder again before asking, “Do you want to?” 

Her response is immediate, a soft, sleepy whisper. “Please.”

His mouth doesn’t leave her shoulder as he ensures that she’s ready, teasing with the light touch of his fingertips until she’s pushing back against him and keening for more. Her chemise is rucked up to her underarms, his free hand kneading the soft flesh of her breasts as he works her open with his fingers, and Link realises, dimly, that he hasn’t kissed her yet. 

When he sinks into her, slowly, they both sigh in relief.

Link stills once he’s fully inside her, face buried in her hair, savouring the scent and heat of her surrounding him. She’s always so much warmer than he is, somehow, every touch amplified. He takes a deep breath, holding her tight against him. Then he starts to move.

He’s slow and measured as he rocks into her gently, almost able to feel the rush of heat vibrate down her body. He loves having her like this; soft, unhurried, voices muffled against the blankets, the light of morning turning everything golden. Zelda breathes his name in time with the rhythm of his hips, arching her spine, searching for the friction she isn’t getting. She reaches over her shoulder to grasp his hair.

“Touch me,” she whispers, and moans when Link takes his hand from her breast, drags it down her body and between her legs.

She’s quieter in the mornings; Link senses her impending climax in the tensing of her muscles and the way her breath catches and stutters. He adjusts his grip on her waist to angle himself differently, hastening every time she tightens and whines. Her hand has joined his between her thighs, guiding his slick fingers  _there—right there, Goddess, yes, almost—_

He’s fast and hard until her body goes tight, and when he feels her release he  _stops_. 

Zelda surges back against him with a drawn-out cry, gripping his hand between her thighs like a vice. Her orgasm hits her in waves and she rides it with the steady roll of her hips until she’s gasping, grinding against him and his fingers until she slows to a stop, trembling, relaxing into the bed with an exalted sigh.

He peppers her shoulder and neck with kisses as he withdraws, but she still makes a wistful, unhappy noise in protest. 

“You haven’t finished,” she says.

Link smiles. “I will.”

He rolls her onto her back, settling between her legs, and assists in removing her chemise. She sinks back onto the mattress as soon as the garment is gone, and Link takes a moment to drink in the sight of her; golden hair fanned out over the pillows, green eyes bright even through lowered lashes, face glowing and rosy from climax. He leans in to kiss her slowly, feeling her sleepy, sated smile against his lips, then reaches down to guide himself back inside her.

He exhales shakily as their bodies connect again, Zelda’s legs sitting high on his waist and a soft pulse of warmth where they’re joined. Link shifts a little, drops his forehead against hers. Murmurs, “I love you.”

Zelda hums. Threads her fingers into his hair and says, “Show me.”

 

* * *

 

Some afternoons, Zelda comes home to find Link still in bed.

To his credit, he’s fully dressed this time, and lying on top of the blankets, but he still has the decency to look bashful as she comes up the stairs. She doesn’t chastise him, though, and Link watches her over the cookbook he’s reading as she leaves the Sheikah Slate on the desk and undresses down to her blouse and underwear. 

Zelda climbs into bed and curls up against him, resting her head on his thigh. Link brings one hand down to stroke her hair and she immediately breathes a deep, relaxed sigh, melting into the mattress.

They stay like that for almost an hour; Link idly combing through Zelda’s hair with his fingers while he reads and considers dinner. He thinks she might have fallen asleep, but then she stirs and turns over, her cheek still pressed against his leg, expression pensive. She pushes his shirt up a little, tracing small circles over his hipbone with her thumb, and then she raises her eyes and gives him a  _look_. He’s seen that look before. It means trouble. It means  _put the book down_. 

Link puts the book down. 

Zelda sits up, kneeling between his legs. She pushes his shirt up higher over his stomach and unclasps his trousers, shuffling them down just enough to expose the amount of skin she wants, then lowers her head. She nuzzles him right where his thigh meets his hip, leaving long, lingering kisses all over his lower belly and hipbones.

It isn’t long until he’s straining against his briefs, and he can’t help the shiver that courses through him at the slightest brush of her fingertips. Can’t hide his relief when she finally frees him from the confines of his clothing. Can’t fight the groan that escapes when she wraps her hand around him.

She knows he’ll never ask her to put her mouth on him, and so she likes to take her time. She’s close enough that he can feel her breath on him, stroking him so slowly it’s  _agonizing_  until he’s twitching and panting and entirely at her mercy. Her name catches in his throat when she suddenly licks a line from the base to the tip of him, and then, without warning, she takes him into her mouth. 

Link’s head falls back with an entirely undignified whine. She pauses, and he feels her laugh, the vibrations of it moving through him and making him tremble, and then she picks up her pace.

She’s found a formula for this and she has no trouble following it, working in a steady rhythm with Link pliant and helpless beneath her hands. He knows she savours it, being in control, and so she’s methodical. Predictable, until she swirls her tongue around him with a flourish. Until her eyes flutter closed and she takes him as deep as she can go.

He never lasts long after that.

Link manages to choke out a warning, and then all composure leaves him. His hands are suddenly in her hair and he’s bucking. He’s pushing and pleading and chasing release, thrusting into the heat of her mouth and she  _lets_  him—lets him just drag her head down and hold her there until the force of orgasm takes him.

He’s trembling in the aftermath, fingers going limp in her hair, body twitching uselessly as she pulls off and swallows. Link breathes her name with something like reverence. Says, voice soft and sated, “Thank you.”

She sits up with a grin, clearly pleased with herself. Link watches her in a daze as she dabs at the corners of her mouth with her ring finger. He regards the finger seriously. He considers how it might look adorned with a band of gold. 

He reaches out, beckoning her closer. “Your turn.”

Zelda slips off her underwear and moves up the bed. Link takes her hips in his hands, tilts his mouth up to meet her and thinks of diamonds. 

 

* * *

 

Most nights, Zelda likes to turn in early, and Link never lets her go to bed alone.

He tidies the loft as the fire burns down, occupying himself while she bathes. Straightens the rug, turns down the bed, returns some books to the shelf. He moves Zelda’s hairbrush from the desk to the dresser, filled with an inexplicable sense of pride as he observes the way their belongings have merged. He can’t fully explain the depth of that comfort—how she’s become part of the house. How it never quite felt like a home until she started leaving her boots by the door. 

He feels Zelda watching him before he even hears her footsteps, and when he turns to the staircase all the breath leaves him. 

She’s fresh from her bath, wearing nothing at all, still dewy from soap and steam. Soft and rosy and almost glowing in the dim light of the house as she waits, expectant, at the top of the stairs, her gaze like a physical touch that sends a tremor through his body. Her eyes undress him before his hands even start, and then she crosses the loft to join him.

Link loses his shirt and his belt before she takes over, her hands roaming over his abdomen like it’s something novel and new. When she kisses him, her lips are gentle. Unhurried, but thorough and branding, until she pushes his pants to his knees and grasps his hair, dragging her tongue over his teeth. 

It’s warm in the house but she’s always warmer, and Link closes the space between their bodies to savour the pleasant burn of her skin. He breathes a shallow gasp at the smooth slide of her lower belly against him, runs his hand up over her waist and ribcage until his thumb skims her breast, and the noise she makes in the back of her throat sends all of his blood rushing south.

She draws back, kissing a slow line along his jaw until her lips are at his ear. “Do you want me tonight?”

Zelda smells like honey and plum blossoms. When Link brushes back her hair, presses his mouth against the soft spot on her neck, breathing in, he can almost taste it. “Always.” 

It’s never the same, his nights with her, and if there’s a pattern he’s yet to find it. Sometimes it’s soft, like it had been the first time—a slow melding of bodies, touches gentle and voices low. Sometimes it’s rough, hard, and she’s loud and demanding. Sometimes it’s nothing but being lulled to sleep by the steady pulse of her heartbeat and sometimes, that’s more than enough.

Zelda pushes him down as soon as his knees hit the mattress and gracefully climbs astride him. Her kisses are urgent now, hotter and deeper and clear in intention, and Link draws her in against his lap and groans. She exhales shakily as he pulls away to kiss a line down her chest and over the swell of one breast, and when he takes the peak into his mouth, lazily traces the nipple with his tongue, she only whines and pushes closer. 

The warmth of her pressed against him has his heart in his throat, but still she doesn’t reach down to guide him. She just rolls her hips down, again and again, dragging the wet heat of herself along the length of him. She does it over and over, until it’s an easy slide. Until he’s slick from her and trembling, canting up and gasping her name, desperate for more heat and friction.

Zelda stops moving as she reaches for him, and Link finds himself holding his breath. He watches, transfixed, as he disappears inside her, feeling her shudder at the fullness and stretch. He doesn’t exhale, doesn’t move until she settles into his lap, body flush against his and wrapped around him tight. 

He braces one hand on the mattress, pushes his hips up—but Zelda stops him. “Let me,” she says, quietly. “I want to.” 

She shifts to her knees, curls one hand over his thigh, and carefully starts to ride him.

Link splays his fingers at the small of her back, but otherwise he remains still. Her movements are fluid, deliberate and practiced, her breathing deep and controlled as she takes him. He stares up at her in wonder, in awed disbelief— because she chose  _him_ , she chooses to share this, herself, withhim,and the knowledge still sends him reeling.

He needs her closer and so he draws her in, his hips jerking up of their own accord when her breasts graze his chest, touching some nerve inside her that sends a tremor up her spine. Link grips her waist and does it again, harder, purposeful, until she’s clutching his shoulders to keep herself upright, until she’s grinding down, giving in.

They move together in a slow push and pull as Zelda takes his face in her hands. She looks at him like he’s something precious. Runs her thumbs over his cheeks and her fingertips along his jaw. She drops her forehead and sets her mouth against his, and he breathes her in with every thrust.

When she tells him she loves him it sounds like a prayer. 

Link feels the rush of orgasm sweep up her body in the pulse of clenched muscles and involuntary jerk of her hips, and then there’s little he can do but follow. She’s gripping his hair, he’s groaning, she’s whining, he’s pushing up hard and fast as it takes them both, movements carnal and frantic, everything reduced to heat and friction and _love you, love you, love you_ echoing in his ears like a mantra. 

They hold each other afterwards, rocking together gently, riding out the leftover sparks. Zelda recovers first, brushing back his hair and kissing him until he’s breathless, until they’re both laughing into each others mouths as they fall sideways, still clutching each other, trying to get under the blankets without letting go.

They face each other across the pillows, sharing kisses and soft touches until Zelda whispers goodnight. Link watches her long after her eyes have closed, taking in the stillness and silence of the house, the way her eyelashes flutter in the moonlight. He shifts across the bed to hold her closer, presses his face into her neck. Assures himself that this is really his life.

Their breaths fall into sync as he drifts off to sleep, and for a moment he swears they share a heartbeat. 

 

* * *

 

Zelda rises early, and today is no different. 

Link is roused by the sound of her puttering around in the kitchen, and the scent of Hyrule Herb tea lures him downstairs. He takes his chair at the dining table and she meets his eyes with a smile, raising an empty mug in silent question:  _You want_? He nods, watching as she adds more hot water and stirs in courser bee honey—one spoon for him, two for her.

Zelda sets his mug down on the table and touches his hair as she passes. It’s just a brush of her fingertips at the back of his neck, but Link feels it all the way down to his toes. She sits opposite himand raises her tea to her lips, breathing a gratified sigh when she takes her first sip, and Link wonders what it might be like to hear that sound every day for the rest of his life.

She reads over some documents with sleep-heavy eyelids, hair shining like spun gold where the morning sun filters in through the windows, and Link is so transfixed, watching her for so long, his tea almost goes cold.

“How is it?” she asks, once he finally remembers to drink. 

Link smiles, lowers his mug.

Tells her, “Perfect.” 

**Author's Note:**

> This story is probably like a year old and was originally posted to [my tumblr](https://honestground.tumblr.com/post/164836505038/green-eyes-and-a-heartbeat) but hi I'm not dead hope you enjoyed the smut.


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